nach_," by C.B. PHILLIP.
Title difficult to understand. Landscape easy to comprehend. A close
study of Nature, admirably painted. A wholesome Phillippic against
namby-pamby prettiness. "_On the Thames_," by G.A. FRIPP, honestly
painted, and no frippery about it. Miss CLARA MONTALBA has a large
number of pictures of Venice--and Mr. RIDGE comes up and says he is
the Keeper. What Keeper? He whispers, he is the Keeper of the Cold
Out--What an oridginal remark!--and will I step into the Committee
Room? I do, and remain there, and continue to be

Yours par-adoxically, OLD PAR.

* * * * *

ROBERT AT THE HOPERA.

I was habel the other day to do BROWN a good turn by getting him
engaged at won of our big Otels, so he kindly offerd to stand a
supper, and then take me to the Hopera at Common Garden. We went to
see _Horfay_.

It seems that wunce upon a time, ever so many thowsand years ago,
before there was not no Lord Mares, nor no Shirryffs, nor not ewen
no Aldermen, a Gent of the name of _Horfay_ lived in Grease. He was
the werry grandest Fiddler of his time, a regler JOEY KIM. Well, he
married a werry bewtiful wife, of the name of _Yourridisee_, and they
was both werry appy, till one day, as she was a having a run in a
field, a norrid serpent bit her in her heel; so she died. Well, while
poor _Mr. Horfay_ is a telling us all about his trubbel, in comes a
werry bewtiful young lady with a pair of most bewtiful wings on, and
she werry kindly gives him a new sort of magic Fiddle, called, as I
was told, A Liar! to go to--go down to _you kno where_, to git his
wife back! Off he goes, and the neks sean shows us the werry plaice,
all filled with savidges, and demons, and snakes, and things; and
presently, when _Mr. Horfay_ is seen a cumming down, all the demons
and savidges runs at him to stop him; but he holds up the Liar, and
begins for to sing, and most bewtifully too, tho' I didn't kno the
tune; they all makes way for him, and he gos bang into lots of big
flames, and so I werry naterally thort as how it was all over. But
not a bit of it, for in the werry next sean we sees him with his Liar
in a most lovly garden, all full of most lovly flowers and trees, and
numbers of bewtiful ladies, a dancing and enjoying theirselves like
fun, until his Liar leads him rite up to his wife, and then he raps
harf his scarf round her, and off they gos together, both on 'em
dowtless a longing for a reel nupshal ki